MAEVE'S POV
The next rejection ritual was held deep in the woods.
Just like the last time, everyone who had been present at the last ritual was present tonight. There was Francis and the elder, guarding the perimeter.
Revierrie was busy lighting up candlesticks. He had a calmness about him—which was good to note.
The last ritual had taken such a toll on him, he had gone as far as to starve himself in his quest to find the root cause of the ritual's failure.
Francis had paid a quick visit to my quarters at the crack of dawn, informing me about the ritual tonight, at midnight, urging me to prepare.
As I took his message in stride, I wondered if Ivan would have delivered the message in person, if I hadn't lashed out at him the way I did yesterday.
Ivan—he had been acting pretty much uncharacteristic since the last rejection ritual.
